SPOCK: And now, next on our fire sale auction is Lot 221, the giant StarFleet Headquarters emblem directly behind me. Bidding will start at 250 credits....do I hear 275?
CiC: How can he not hear 275 with ears like that?
ADM. CARTWRIGHT: Word!
SPOCK: I heard that.

TROI: Eeeek.....Worf!!!!
WORF: Ahem....forgive me, Counselor Troi. We thought this led to Corridor Alpha Five...we did not realize it was the overhead to the Womens' Head.
SECURITY OFFICER: (whispers to fellow officer) Nice downblouse!
OTHER SECURITY OFFICER: Nice everything.

Spock: We have neuterized the nucular threat; irregardless, our mission is a whole nother barrel of fish. Awesome sauce. Allow me to reiterate again: Starfleet misunderestimated the threat of the extraterrestrial aliens and unequivocably ordered me to use an inflammable payload in the torpedo. This was anti-opposed by the non-defunct alien faction and forced them to make a complete 360 in their strategy. So I told the Captain you're crew is literally behind you 1000% like Yoko and Lenin. Their loyaler than any crew in all the multiple universes. Its all good. Word.

...This is what you people sound like to Vulcans.

Admirals: OOOooohhh....

Worf: A warrior does not shake it more than three times unless he intends to play with it, Mister Crusher.

Data: This is the hand I used to cup Tasha's left butt cheek.
Geordi:....
Data: She named it "Sir Mix-A-Lot."
Geordi:....
Data: Guess why.
Geordi:....
Data: It likes big butts and it cannot lie.
Geordi: TMI!!!

CARTWRIGHT: Quinn, Aaron and Savar....if I don't start a new war against the Klingons, Starfleet won't be able to get rid of these three dumbasses before seventy years.

Worf's personnal log: Ten years after the parasite infiltration, a totally senile, but still in service, admiral Quinn used a trapdoor as an outhouse. I must convince Captain Picard to let me apply the Klingon retirement policy on his old friend.

Spock: "I apologize to each of you for the bizarre letters you each recently received from my father, Ambassador Sarek. Apparently, he is just not going to ever let this Starfleet/Vulcan Science Academy thing go."

Spock: Okay, so we're agreed, I'll go join Kirk and the crew. No one will reveal that I'm giving the briefing or that I volunteered him until the right time. But, remember, please tag me in the pictures you upload to Instavid so I can see the look on his face.

Worf: Shut the hatch! Shut the hatch!

Security Officer: Borg drones, sir?

Worf: Worse, proselytizers!

Proselytizers: Have you found God? Do you have a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior?

Data: ...so, the producer asks him what the name of the act is and he replies, "The Aristocrats!"